Taking The Blade
by penny4him
Summary: It's Bruenor's opinion that being sensitive is a weakness, so where does that leave Drizzt and Cattie-brie's young son Zaknafein? Zak struggles to face his greatest fears while Violet longs for scimitars of her own. Drizzt and Cattie-brie have differing opinions on the matter of weapons for their children, but Bruenor wants to give them their own blades in a dwarven ceremony.
1. At The Turning of The Season

_The recognizable characters appearing in this story are © Wizards of the Coast, Inc., all rights reserved. They are used without permission and for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made by the author for the writing of this story. No infringement upon nor challenge to the rights of the copyright holders is intended; nor should any be inferred._

 _Translation of any words/phrases in the drow language is included in the footnotes._

* * *

 **Taking The Blade**

Chapter 1: At The Turning of The Season

" _I see, and I remember. I do, and I understand."_

* * *

Eight-year-old Violet perched on the chopping block and leaned forward, tucking her loose white hair behind her pointed ears. She watched as her father sharpened his gleaming scimitars. His stark white hair was tied back with a tan leather lace, but a few wisps had come loose, just like with her own ponytails. Today he wore his fawn-colored cloak instead of the usual deep green one. The ring of the metal on the whetstone was rhythmic and familiar.

Being a protector of Icewind Dale and the Ten Towns often meant that _Kel'nar_ was hunting goblins, yeti, orcs, wolves, or some other threat. But today he was home! Violet twisted a strand of her long white hair around her index finger and smiled. She wiggled closer. The fall air was crisp and pleasant today, the breeze laden with the scent of the turning leaves. Perhaps on such a fine day as this, with the green leaves just starting to yellow, Kel'nar would realize that she was growing older too. Old enough for her own scimitars even! But so far she had none – not even practice ones. Violet's smile faded. If only he would realize that she was old enough to handle weapons! She frowned and nibbled the inside of her cheek.

Drizzt laid Twinkle on the bench beside him. He looked up and smiled. "One done."

Violet nodded, still nibbling the inside of her cheek.

"Someone's quieter than usual." He picked up Icingdeath.

Violet hopped down from the chopping block and crossed to the bench in two quick steps. "Can I do that?"

Drizzt looked up again, one eyebrow and the whetstone raised. "When you're older."

Her face fell. "But Kel'nar, I _know_ how! I always watch you do it!"

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Watching and doing are two different things." He began sharpening with sure, even strokes.

Violet pouted. She reached out and ran a finger over the sparkling blue jewel on Twinkle's pommel. "You _never_ let me try."

He looked up at her, continuing to sharpen. "As I said, I'll teach you when you're older."

Her frown deepened. "Can I pick up Twinkle?" Even as she asked, she wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the scimitar.

"No."

"Aww!" Reluctantly Violet let go of the grip. She crossed her arms and fixed her father with a glare. "You never let me do anything fun."

Drizzt frowned too, the hand with the whetstone pausing in mid-stroke. "I don't think you'd consider it 'fun' having your skin stitched back together." He looked at her meaningfully.

Violet rolled her eyes. "I'd be really careful. I'm not stupid."

"The blades are too heavy for you." His tone was matter-of-fact.

"You always say that."

"That's because it's true."

"If you won't let me hold one, at least let me sharpen," Violet tried.

Drizzt pursed his lips. "The scimitars are too sharp."

"Then why are you sharpening them _more_?"

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "They _need_ to be extremely sharp to be effective. These aren't just for carving wood."

Violet considered, and suddenly her eyes lit up. "Can I sharpen _my_ knife?"

Drizzt's shoulders relaxed. "Alright. I suppose you're old enough to learn that."

"Really?!" Her eyes lit up even more, and she bounced on her toes. "Yes!"

Kel'nar found his smile again. After a few final strokes he must have been satisfied with the edge on Icingdeath, because he laid it beside Twinkle and patted the bench on the other side of him. "Come sit here."

Violet happily complied. She got her little knife out of its belt sheath and grinned when Kel'nar handed her the whetstone. "Can I spit on it?"

He laughed. "Sure."

Drizzt put an arm around Violet and wrapped his hands around hers, angling the knife blade and helping her draw it across the stone. "Like this. Keep the blade at the same angle. Do that about five more times."

Violet tried it while he watched.

"Perfect."

She grinned from ear to ear.

"Now the other side."

She glanced up at him. "Aren't you going to help me find the right angle?"

His eyes twinkled. "You try. You ' _know_ how!'" he mimicked her prior wail of protest.

Violet couldn't help but laugh, but she elbowed him in the side. "I don't sound like that!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" His lavender eyes still twinkled, and his smile was broad.

Violet rolled her eyes and flipped her knife blade over, positioning it on the whetstone. She peeked up at him questioningly, but Kel'nar didn't even adjust her angle, just nodded his approval.

"You're a quick learner."

Violet beamed, and suddenly she felt warmed, despite the almost-chilly air on her face.

"Five times or so. It doesn't really need much sharpening."

So intent was she on sharpening her knife just right, that Violet jerked and nearly cut herself when she heard the sudden panicked yelling.

" _Kel'nar! KEL'NAR_!"

Drizzt started. Zaknafein was yelling from inside the house, and he sounded terrified. The ranger jumped to his feet.

"Kel'nar, there's a _snake!_ "

Drizzt paused in mid-reach for his scimitars. He blew out a long breath, then turned toward the house.

Violet looked up at him and smirked. Her wide-eyed look had vanished at the word 'snake.' "Remember last time, when it was a tiny green jewel snake? He's so scared of them." She rolled her eyes.

Drizzt pressed his lips together. "Stay here just in case." He strode toward the house.

Violet nodded, once more intent on holding her knife blade exactly right. For a moment she had been worried, but snakes didn't bother her. She finished the fourth and fifth strokes and carefully wiped the blade on her doeskin leggings as she had seen her father do. Then her gaze fell upon his gleaming scimitars, resting on the bench beside her. He hadn't taken them with him.

* * *

 _Kel'nar =_ Dad.


	2. The Other Side Of Fear

**Chapter 2: The Other Side of Fear**

" _Everything you want is on the other side of fear."_

* * *

" _KEL'NAAAAR!_ " Zak stood on top of the kitchen table and watched the large green snake slither toward him. Could it climb up the round table legs? They climbed trees, didn't they? Sure they did. Zak whimpered and bit his lip.

"It's a jewel snake, Zak. Be calm." Drizzt stood in the doorway, taking in the scene.

"G-Get it out, Kel'nar, p-please." Zak felt a bit better, knowing that the snake wasn't a venomous kind, but the way it moved still made him uneasy. The snake encountered a chair that was pushed out from the table and wound its way up the chair leg. Its forked tongue darted out, tasting the air. Zak shuddered and inched back on the table, which creaked under the 11-year-old's weight.

"Get off of the table, please." Kel'nar still stood in the doorway, a trace of a frown at the corners of his eyes.

"I will...j-just, get the snake away, okay?"

"No."

Zak blinked, and his eyebrows knit. "What?"

"I said no." Drizzt sighed and crossed his arms. "This can't go on, Zak."

The red-haired boy blinked again, not quite comprehending.

"What can't go on?"

"Your fear of snakes. Now get off of the table."

Zak's chin began to tremble, and his eyes filled with tears. He shook his head wildly, looking back down at the jewel snake, now curled up on the chair seat.

"Zak-"

"No! I can't!" Hot tears began to race down his cheeks, and he whimpered as the snake raised its head and looked at him. Why wasn't Kel'nar helping him? Didn't he care how snakes made him _feel_?

* * *

Drizzt tried to hide his frown but wasn't entirely successful. This was the third jewel snake incident in as many weeks. There seemed to be more of them than usual this year. He went to the opposite side of the table, giving the snake a wide berth so as not to disturb it. He extended a hand to his son. "Calm down. Breathe."

Zaknafein ignored the hand, but took a few shuddery breaths.

"That's fine. Take my hand."

Zak took it, reluctantly.

"You are going to get down and stand by me. Jewel snakes are not venomous, and you are in no danger."

"I...I don't like the way it moves..."

"It probably doesn't like the way you move either," Drizzt said dryly.

Zak's eyebrows rose at that unexpected comment, but he didn't even come close to smiling. Drizzt tugged on his hand slightly and he climbed down, glancing at the snake as he did so. It appeared unfazed.

"That's my brave boy," Drizzt encouraged. "Now, how will you get rid of it?"

"How will _I_ get rid of it?"

Drizzt nodded, meeting his son's still-moist eyes. "I want you to deal with it."

"Kel'nar, please don't make me!"

Drizzt bit back another frown and drummed his fingertips against his thigh. How many times had he told Zak that jewel snakes were harmless? He was beginning to lose count. Beyond that, he had always tried to show his children that the snakes in the Dale were easily dealt with – even the venomous ones – mostly by his own nonchalant attitude when encountering one. It had worked with Violet. Clearly it hadn't worked with Zaknafein.

The ranger put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Zak, look at me. I know you don't like snakes, but I won't always be there to get rid of them for you. You are eleven years old, and I know you are capable, brave, and resourceful. I know you're scared, but you can't let that stop you from acting. Now look around and decide what you're going to do. You can either get the snake outside somehow or, if you want to be sure it doesn't come in again, kill it."

* * *

Zak bit his lip. He definitely didn't want the snake coming back in again. He glanced around the kitchen. There were knives in the block, but he'd have to get so close to the snake. There was a stack of cut firewood by the hearth. Maybe that. Warily, Zak crossed to the fireplace and picked up a split log. He glanced at Kel'nar questioningly.

The ranger nodded once. "That will work."

Zak hesitated. "Do I really have to do this?" His gaze implored otherwise.

"Yes." Drizzt's answer was firm. "As you see fit." He took a few steps back and leaned against the wooden counter.

Zaknafein swallowed hard. He raised his makeshift club and crept toward the snake on tiptoe. Disturbed nonetheless, his target uncoiled and dropped to the floor. To his horror, it slithered straight toward him! Zak jumped back, then sucked in a deep breath. He swung the club down wildly...and missed. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his hands were sweaty. The second time he didn't miss. The snake lay twitching and he stared at it, panting. Was it dead?

Kel'nar didn't move from his position across the room. "Once more. Hard."

Zaknafein hit it squarely on the head and it went limp. He blew out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and looked up at his father. "I-I did it. I did it!" A grin slowly spread across his face. "I did it myself!"

Drizzt nodded, although his smile was distinctly less pronounced. "You did just fine. See? I knew you could." Finally leaving his post at the counter, he clapped Zaknafein on the back. "Next thing you know, you'll be picking them up with your bare hands."

He actually sounded like he meant it! Zak smiled up at him. He tossed the split log back onto the pile, then hesitantly bent down to inspect the dead snake from close up. The green scales gleamed in the sunlight from the window. He poked it lightly with a finger and was surprised to find that it wasn't slimy. The scales were smooth, hard, and cold, kind of like the heavy gold necklace grandpa Bruenor had given mum at the last of the Four Feasts.

* * *

Drizzt watched Zaknafein with a weary smile. It had bothered him, _greatly_ bothered him, that his eleven-year-old son was so afraid of snakes. Even harmless snakes. Mostly it bothered him because it was irrational. Although, if he would admit it, perhaps it bothered him more because Violet, two and a half years younger, had no problem with snakes whatsoever. "If you can kill a jewel snake, you can easily kill the venomous snakes in the Dale as well."

Zaknafein looked up at him, eyes widening slightly.

"And there aren't very many of those," Drizzt was quick to add.

Zak looked back down at the limp snake and picked it up delicately by the tail. There was a smear of blood on the floorboards beneath it. He frowned.

"We'll take it outside and bury it," Drizzt said quietly.

Zak nodded solemnly but didn't meet his father's eyes. He moved to the open doorway but stopped and leaned against the doorjamb, gaze fixed on the lifeless jewel snake in his hand, its shining green scales already appearing dull and tarnished. "Maybe I shouldn't have killed it." His voice was only a whisper.

Drizzt didn't say anything, just got a wet rag and wiped the floorboards before the snake blood could stain them. Finally he approached his pensive son. He put an arm around him and squeezed his shoulder. "Sometimes the best way to learn something is by doing it. I'd much rather you practice with a jewel snake than face a venomous one and have to deal with it without any previous experience."

Zak didn't look at him. "But it wasn't going to hurt us, and it wasn't killing for food."

"No," Drizzt agreed. "Those are the usual considerations." His eyes studied the wispy clouds overhead. "I'd say learning to kill a snake and overcoming your fear was a necessary exception today." _Especially the last part_. "Zak." He waited until his son looked at him. "I'm proud of you. You faced your fear."

Zaknafein frowned and looked away again. "Because you made me."

Drizzt inclined his head. "Does that lessen your courage?"

Zak pushed away from the door frame suddenly and started across the front yard. "Yes!" He spat out the word without looking back.

Drizzt didn't follow, but addressed his son's retreating back. "I don't think it does."

* * *

Zaknafein didn't stop walking until he reached the garden patch across the clearing. He knelt in the cool grass, laid the jewel snake beside him, and started scooping out a shallow grave with his hands. The ground was hard and dry, tearing at his fingernails and leaving them jagged. He paused to rest after a few minutes, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

"This will be easier."

Zak bit his lip. It didn't surprise him that Kel'nar was suddenly beside him, offering him a shovel. His father always walked silently. _He probably can't make noise when he walks even if he tries_ , Zak thought irritably. He looked up, not even trying to hide the anger glinting in his lavender eyes. "Stop being proud of me!" he blurted. "I was _scared_. I'm _still_ scared of snakes. I have no courage!"

* * *

No courage? Drizzt met his son's angry gaze and held it. "Zaknafein. Hear me now. Fear is _normal_. Courage doesn't mean you're not scared. It means you do what needs to be done, _despite_ your fear."

Zak pursed his lips. He sat back on his heels. "But you're not afraid of anything."

He said it so matter-of-factly that Drizzt laughed. "You just think that." He lightly tossed the unaccepted shovel to the grass and sat down beside his son.

Zak looked at him sidelong, unconvinced. "What are you scared of?"

How much to say? Drizzt's fingertips drummed a quick rhythm against his thigh. His greatest fear was that he wouldn't be able to protect his family, but that would be a conversation for when Zak was much older. Best keep this lighter. "Trolls usually do it."

"Trolls, like where you have to burn all the pieces or they grow back?" The eleven-year-old shuddered.

"Exactly," Drizzt confirmed. "They mostly keep to the moors, but they're scary."

"What else?"

"Hmm..." The ranger tried to think of something else he dreaded. Being tortured came to mind, but he certainly wasn't going to say _that_ either. "That night last winter when a rabid wolf came into the clearing."

Zak's eyes widened at the memory. "We heard growling and snarling at the door. You looked out the window and told me and Violet to go upstairs."

Drizzt nodded. "The wolf would have spread the deadly sickness to people or other animals. We couldn't allow it to live. Mum got her bow ready, and I got my scimitars." The ranger looked at his son. "I didn't want to go out there," he admitted. "I was afraid."

Zak's eyes were glued to his father's face.

"If it were to bite, even a healer or strong potions may not be able to save me. But I knew what I had to do. I opened the door."

Zak held his breath. He and Violet had been at the window in Violet's room, but the wind and blowing snow had made it impossible to see much.

"I opened it fast, and stood back so mum could shoot from where she was standing on the kitchen table—" Drizzt chuckled "—with good reason I might add," and his eyes twinkled at Zaknafein, "but the wolf wasn't there. It had circled around to the back. I saw the tracks in the snow, and I went outside. You might have seen me going around the house. My heart was beating fast, not knowing exactly where it was. I rounded the corner and saw it in Darkvision. It turned and lunged at me, but I struck before it could bite me, thank Mielikki."

Zak let out the breath he'd been holding. "When you came back in you just acted normal. Mum said we could come downstairs. Then we all sat down and had cookies and peppermint tea."

Drizzt laughed. "Did we? I don't remember cookies."

"We did. And me and Violet got to stay up late because no one remembered to tell us to go to bed."

Drizzt laughed again. "Sounds like it was a pretty memorable night for us all."

"Yeah." Zak felt a bit better. He picked up the shovel and finished digging the hole for the snake, then gently laid it inside, watching the sun glint off of the shiny green scales. Finally he scooped the dirt back over it, his face solemn. The eleven-year-old looked at his father questioningly. "Kel'nar? Sometimes when we're hunting, you do this..." He got down on one knee beside the garden.

Drizzt met his eyes. "You mean after I make a kill."

"Yes."

The ranger was surprised his son had noticed, as this habit was usually only a brief pause before he got down to the business of field dressing.

"Why? What does it mean?"

Drizzt unconsciously touched the unicorn pendant around his neck. "I find it important to acknowledge and appreciate the provision that..." His voice trailed off. This was his son. He tried again. "When I do that, I'm just being thankful for meat for us to eat, or for being able to keep us safe from an animal that would try to hurt us."

"Thankful to Mielikki?"

Drizzt nodded.

"Oh. Okay."

"Today you could be thankful for learning from this jewel snake."

Zaknafein cocked his head. "What did I learn?"

Drizzt smiled. "You tell me."

"Well...I guess next time there's a snake, I'll try to be brave and not climb up on the table."

Drizzt's smile widened. "That's good. And...?" he prompted.

Zak shrugged. He looked down and started plucking blades of grass. "I feel bad for killing it. I wish I would've just gotten it outside." He scuffed the dirt with his bare toes, then looked up. "But now that I've actually touched a jewel snake, maybe I could pick up a live one too, like you do."

Drizzt raised an eyebrow, surprised. That was more than he'd expected. "Very brave," he commented, and Zak grinned.

"Kel'nar...does Mielikki help you to be brave?"

Drizzt took the unicorn pendant between thumb and forefinger and rubbed the smooth symbol. He remembered the first time he had faced the foul balor, Errtu, and not denied Mielikki as his chosen deity. "I'm not sure Zak, but...I think so."

"If Mielikki is the Forest Queen, do you think she likes snakes?"

Drizzt smiled. "Mielikki is good, Zak. She doesn't want you to come to harm."

"Jewel snakes are harmless – do you think she likes them?"

Drizzt laughed helplessly and ran a hand through his tangled white hair. "I'm not a cleric Zaknafein – ask _her_."

Zak's eyebrows shot up. "Ask her?"

Drizzt nodded. "Why not? Although I doubt the answer will be audible." He smiled and tousled Zak's hair. "Do you ever save some of your hard questions for mum?"

Zak smirked and pushed his father's arm away playfully. "I save them all for when she's gone berry picking."

 _Berry picking!_ _Cattie-brie was still gone berry picking!_ Drizzt's stomach clenched and he jumped up. He'd better check on Violet.

Zak shot him a questioning look.

"I'm going to see what Violet's doing."

"Oh." Zak got to his feet. "Can I go look for more jewel snakes?"

Drizzt's eyebrows nearly climbed to his hairline. " _Look_ for jewel snakes?"

Zak shifted his feet. "Yeah."

Drizzt studied his son for a moment. Something had changed in the space of this afternoon. "Do you have your knife?"

Zaknafein almost rolled his eyes, but thought better of it. "Yeah. I always do."

"Alright. Don't go too far."

* * *

A/N: In progress. Much more is drafted but I still have to edit, and it's entirely too late tonight ;) All reviews appreciated!


	3. How Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth

**Chapter 3: How Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth**

" _How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is, to have a thankless child."_

* * *

Violet's newly-sharpened knife worked great, as did her newly-made wooden whistle. Violet put the finishing touches on the whistle, and her gaze fell once more on her father's scimitars. She really wanted to hold one, and he'd never even let her do that. Zaknafein had held Icingdeath last time. It wasn't fair. She was eight years old already – not some little kid! _Well_ , she finally decided, _he'll never know_.

Some niggling little voice in the back of her mind told her that she really shouldn't disobey, but Violet stubbornly silenced it. She stuffed the whistle into her pocket and grabbed Twinkle's beautiful, jeweled hilt. The grip felt smooth and comfortable. A little thrill of nervousness went through her, but Violet glanced toward the back of the house and lifted the weapon. _Tried_ to lift it. She could raise the hilt easily enough, but the long blade still rested on the bench. Kel'nar's scimitars _were_ heavy. Heavier than they looked. Two hands then. Both fit easily on the hilt, but the curved tip of the blade fell to the ground as she dragged it off of the bench. Violet frowned. She'd wanted to slice it through the air. The weapons always looked so light when they were in Kel'nar's hands. What now? She propped the hilt against the bench and her frown deepened. How could she lift the pointy end and get it back up there? _I'll say I accidentally bumped it and it fell off_.

If the weapon was going to be on the ground anyway, playing with it a bit more wouldn't hurt. A slow smile spread across her face. Violet grabbed the hilt in two hands again and backed up, slowly dragging the long scimitar across the ground until she had lots of room. She began to spin in a circle, slowly at first, then faster. The blade lifted and all at once she was holding it straight out, cutting the air with a most satisfying _whoosh!_ The sound was thrilling, and Violet twirled faster, everything a blur around her. She saw nothing but the shining scimitar, daring anything to cross its deadly path.

A sudden wave of dizziness slapped over her like an enemy's spell, washing away her balance and making her head reel. Violet slowed down and the blade tip plummeted, suddenly catching and dragging on the ground. She stumbled as the ground snatched the blade from her hands. Arms flailing she fell back, landing with a sudden jolt on her backside and a skinned left elbow. _Ouch_. Violet lay back, letting the ground cradle her until the sky stopped spinning.

When the world came back into focus Kel'nar was advancing on her, and he didn't look pleased at all.

* * *

Drizzt had rounded the corner of the house just in time to see Violet stumble and fall. It hadn't looked like the scimitar had cut her, but still his heart was in his throat as he rushed closer. No blood. The ranger blew out a long breath and slowed his steps. He retrieved his scimitar with his left hand and pulled Violet up with his right. A closer look revealed that she was fine, save for a scraped elbow. He closed his eyes for a long moment. How many fell creatures had he dismembered with a single stroke of this very scimitar? Drizzt's hands were trembling.

His daughter looked up at him guiltily, her blue eyes wide and apprehensive. _Good!_ Drizzt could hardly believe that he had been so blatantly disobeyed like this – after all of their previous talks about respecting sharp blades. _Not to mention obedience_.

"Um, I'm sorry," Violet ventured.

Drizzt looked down at his willful daughter and ignored the perfunctory apology, still trying to slow his racing heart. Had she any idea how close she'd come to serious injury? He met her eyes, mouth in a thin line. "Bring me a green branch."

"Kel'nar _..._ " Violet began to protest.

"Now."

Violet's face fell. She turned and trudged away toward the treeline.

Drizzt sighed and wiped the dust off of his blade, sheathing it. He'd inspect it later. He'd hoped they were past this stage already. Apparently not. He watched Violet enter the forest, never looking back. He retrieved Icingdeath as well, then sank down on the bench and put his head in his hands.

* * *

Cattie-brie smiled down at the heaping basket full of thornberries and wild mushrooms on her arm. These were going to be such a treat tonight, and there would be plenty of berries left over for tarts and jam. She popped a sweet berry into her mouth and sighed in pleasure as the tangy taste exploded on her tongue. Savoring the flavor, she rounded the last curve of the trail before home...and stopped short. Violet sat behind a large tree, knees drawn up to her chest, head tucked beneath one arm. She didn't make a sound, but her shoulders were shaking with sobs.

"Oh sweetie." Cattie-brie breathed. If her daughter heard, she didn't look up. Cattie took a few more steps down the trail to where she could see the yard. Drizzt was sitting on the bench, elbows on his knees, forehead resting on his steepled hands. What had happened now?

"Violet?" Cattie-brie took a few steps off of the path toward her daughter, dry pine needles and twigs crunching beneath her feet.

The girl looked up, red-eyed, and wiped her sleeve across her face hastily. She took a few deep breaths and stopped crying.

Cattie-brie wasn't surprised at this measure of composure from her stubborn daughter, young though she was, but it pained her that Violet tried not to cry in front of her. Cattie set aside her basket and knelt down with outstretched arms. Violet hesitated, then she blinked hard and stepped into her mother's embrace. "It's okay," Cattie soothed, rubbing her back. "It will be okay... Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Violet drew in another deep breath and let it out slowly, resignedly. Aside from her red eyes, she looked entirely composed now. "I'm in trouble," she stated flatly. She glanced down the trail toward the yard. "Father is waiting for me to come back."

Cattie-brie noticed that she did not use the more intimate " _Kel'nar_ ". She drew back and studied her daughter from arms' length, taking in the now-firm set of her jaw, deep frown, and what she thought was a glint of anger in Violet's icy blue eyes. "Why are you in trouble?" she asked. "And why are you out here?"

Violet looked away, her cheeks reddening. "I have to go back. He's waiting for me."

Cattie-brie sighed. "Sweetie, your father is very patient." She let a bit of firmness creep into her tone. "And I'd like to know what's going on."

Violet didn't want to explain and risk her mother's ire as well. "He'll think I ran away."

"I doubt it."

Violet squinted at her mother. "Why? Zak ran away once."

Cattie-brie smiled slightly. "You're too stubborn to run away."

"Am not!" Violet said, automatically contrary. She pulled away from her mother and returned to her tree, stooping down to retrieve the branch she'd already found. "I'm...supposed to bring a green branch." She kept her tone devoid of emotion, but she bit her lip.

"Oh." Well that was new. Had Drizzt wanted a minute or two alone? If he had to compose himself, it must have been serious. "What did you do?" she demanded at last. Her tone brooked no further evasions.

"I didn't obey."

"Clearly." Cattie-brie's patience was beginning to grow a bit thin with her daughter's evasiveness. Drizzt never used physical correction – except in response to disobedience. "I want you to tell me what you _did_."

Violet chewed on the inside of her cheek and swished the branch back and forth.

Cattie-brie glanced down, noticing then how thin and whip-like the switch was.

"I played with Twinkle after he told me not to, and I got caught." She crossed her arms and glared.

Cattie-brie's eyes widened, her pulse quickening. Drizzt's scimitars were sharp enough to take the head off of a tundra yeti. "You played with _Twinkle_? What on _Toril_ would possess you to do something like that?!" Cattie-brie realized she was yelling, but she made no effort to quiet her voice. "You could've been sliced wide open, or...or lost a finger or something!"

Violet scowled. "I was careful."

Cattie-brie frowned too. "Your father's scimitars are too long and heavy for you, not to mention wickedly sharp! You should know better by now!" Her blue eyes were icier than Violets'. "There are reasons for the–"

Violet turned and stomped away.

* * *

 _It was so unfair!_ Violet wasn't going to wait around to hear the rest of the lecture. She'd get another one soon enough, of that she was sure.

"Violet, _stop_!"

Reluctantly she stopped, but didn't turn around.

Cattie-brie sighed. "That branch will never do."

"What?" Violet turned and squinted at her mother.

Cattie-brie didn't reply, just pursed her lips. She looked around for something more appropriate, retrieved the knife she'd been using to harvest mushrooms, and cut a green branch about as thick as her little finger. She thrust it into Violet's hand. "Take this."

The eight-year-old looked down at the branch, nearly three times as thick and the one she had chosen, and looked back up at her mother in disbelief. She had hoped for sympathy, but apparently now she was going to get a worse punishment instead. "You're so mean!" Violet blurted, her face darkening into a scowl.

Cattie-brie rolled her eyes. "Then take both. See which one he chooses."

"No!" She was already in trouble; how much worse could it get? "I'll just take the skinny one."

Mum's look was positively dangerous, and Violet felt her blood turn cold. "The skinny one will hurt _more_." Her mother spoke through clenched teeth.

Violet's frown deepened. "You're trying to trick me! I wish you were still out berry picking! I wish you hadn't come back!"

Cattie-brie threw her hands up, exasperated and hurt. She took a step toward her daughter and was both gratified and appalled when Violet took a step back. "Take the branches to your father _now_ , or I'll use them on you myself!"

Violet turned and ran toward the house, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

Cattie-brie retrieved the berry basket and marched after her, face etched into a scowl.


	4. A Modicum Of Mercy

**Chapter 4: A Modicum of Mercy**

" _What is required of you? To do justice, and to love mercy."_

* * *

Drizzt looked up as his wife and daughter entered the clearing. He'd heard them talking from afar, but their words had been indistinct. Clearly the conversation hadn't gone so well. Violet stopped short in front of him, eyes red-rimmed and lower lip caught between her teeth. She stared at a spot on the ground in front of the bench, a couple of green branches clenched in her fist.

The drow stood up and shot Cattie-brie a questioning look, but his wife just said "Carry on," then curtly strode past him into the house.

Drizzt looked back down at his daughter. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she pressed two knuckles against her quivering lip. He put his arm around her shoulders. "Come on." He guided her back toward the forest path.

* * *

Violet's eyes stung. She put one foot in front of the other numbly. How could she have gone and been so stupid? Any hope of getting practice scimitars was gone now – Kel'nar would think her too irresponsible. And even if he somehow understood, mum would make sure she wouldn't have her own scimitars for years. It was all too much. Great tears began to roll down her cheeks, but Violet wouldn't give mum the satisfaction of hearing her cry. Kel'nar's hand tightened on her shoulder, and she quickened her steps toward the woods. The tears fell in dark splotches like raindrops on her pale brown tunic. Violet didn't look up, but her peripheral vision told her that they were past the treeline now. The first stifled sob escaped from her throat, and then she couldn't silence the ones that followed. All she wanted was to be considered grown up enough to learn weapons, and here she was bawling like a little kid, about to get a little kid's punishment. It would hurt, but that was the least of it. She hadn't been spanked for months – she'd thought that meant something – that she was considered more mature. Now that was gone too, and all on a stupid whim. _Kel'nar must think I'm such a baby_. The tears blurred her eyes, but she couldn't stop crying. The dark circle of thoughts started again: _No scimitars. Mum cutting a thicker switch, a scowl on her face. "You should know better by now!" Kel'nar's frown, the set of his jaw. "Bring me a green branch."_ Her foot caught on a root, and Violet pitched forward.

* * *

Drizzt caught and steadied her. What was going on here? Violet didn't cry like this – not ever. She was his tough one, for good or for ill. Usually she stomped off in front of him like she didn't care, took her punishment with a stoic face and gritted teeth. She didn't even try to dissuade him – that had been Zaknafein's usual tactic. Last time she'd raised her chin and said "Get it over with." Drizzt had, wondering all the while if a spanking was even effective with her anymore. He'd made it sting, but no more so than usual. Afterward Violet had cried – a little. It wasn't tears he was looking for, but genuine repentance. She'd whispered a real "I'm sorry" inside of his tight hug. No, his Violet wouldn't cry like this from fear of upcoming punishment. What was going on inside of her head? What had Cattie-brie said to her? He tugged the green branches from her hand and cast them to the ground. "I'm not going to use those," he said.

Violet buried her face in the front of his tunic, leaning heavily on him and choking out more sobs. Drizzt wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. "Shh, _d'anthe uss_. It's alright." He rubbed her back gently, waiting for the tears to subside. "Shh, it's okay." Drizzt sank down to the ground and eased her down with him, settling her on his lap. "It's okay Vi." He repeated the calming words, stroking her back gently as though she were a frightened kitten.

Gradually the tears subsided, and she wiped a sleeve across her messy face and peeked up at him. "Mum hates me."

"Oh?" Contradicting her now wouldn't help. Drizzt tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and waited, gaze fixed on those ice-blue eyes.

Violet sniffled and looked down. She pushed the discarded green branches further away with her foot. "She made me bring a way bigger branch."

"Oh." Drizzt looked down at the switches, taking in their size difference, and understanding dawned. "You chose this thin one–" he picked it up, "–and mum made you bring the bigger one?"

"Yes!" Violet pouted, and her chin trembled again.

"Violet," Drizzt said softly, "she was trying to help you." He smiled wryly. At least now he knew what had happened.

Violet's eyebrows knit and she frowned, tipping her head to one side. "You mean she thought it would be good if it hurt more?" Her lower lip quivered.

Drizzt quickly shook his head. "This skinny branch–" he snapped it experimentally in the air and she flinched at the sound– "It's like a whip. It would hurt a lot more than the thicker one."

"Oh..." Violet looked doubtful.

"Mum was _helping_ you," Drizzt emphasized again. "She doesn't hate you." He tenderly brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I would have cut a bigger branch too."

"You would've?"

He nodded.

Violet frowned. "It doesn't make sense. That can't be right."

Drizzt set the switch down and rolled up his sleeve. "Let me show you."

She sprang away from him so suddenly that she'd put ten feet between them before he knew why.

"That's not what I meant!"

She stopped and looked back at him warily, muscles tensed.

The ranger held perfectly still. After a few moments he stood up with exaggerated slowness and extended his bare arm. "Try out the branches on my arm. Come on. You'll see."

Violet's eyes widened. She came back slowly, finally picking up the branches after a moment's hesitation. "You really want me to...?"

"Yes."

She shifted the thicker branch to her right hand, but didn't do anything.

"Come on, Violet. My arm's getting tired." He shook his fingers a bit, then pushed his sleeve back up to his elbow, looking at her expectantly.

"I don't want to."

"Why?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

He smiled. "You won't."

"Okay..." She half-heartedly whacked his arm, and Drizzt laughed.

"Do it like you mean it, Vi."

She hit him a bit harder the second time, but Drizzt still wasn't satisfied. "It's not a punishment if I think you're just swatting a _trilar_ ," he teased.

Violet narrowed her eyes. She raised her arm high and hit him fast and hard.

"Much better." He shifted closer to her and rotated his arm back and forth for her inspection. "What do you see?"

She peered at his dark skin. "It looks a bit lighter in one spot, but it's already going away."

He nodded. "Exactly." The ranger took a step back and presented his arm again. "Now try the skinny branch. Strike as hard as you did this last time."

Violet hesitated again. "Is it going to hurt?"

He shrugged. "Let's find out."

That was as good as a yes. "I...umm...I believe you about the branches now."

Drizzt raised an eyebrow. "You haven't seen for yourself yet."

"I don't want to."

Ah. He knew that feeling. Could she, in some way, begin to understand things from his perspective? "Violet." Drizzt lowered his arm again. "Do you think I like having to discipline you and Zaknafein when you don't obey?"

She shrugged, eyes on the ground.

"I don't. But I do it anyway, when I think it's necessary. If you don't obey me, I can't keep you _safe_."

She didn't say anything.

How could he really make her understand? Drizzt scratched his head. He remembered Bruenor making an offhand comment about never really being able to reason with Cattie-brie until she was eight years old. Violet was eight now – would she understand an explanation? It wouldn't hurt to try. "Let's say you're the parent and I'm the child. You told me not to play with your weapons. It wasn't because you didn't want me to have fun, it was because you didn't want me to get hurt and need stitching up, or...or cut my fingers off." He was deliberately blunt. " _But_ I disobeyed you, and I did it anyway. I'm lucky I wasn't injured, because the blades were too long and heavy for me." Drizzt paused and saw that he had her full attention. "You love me very much. Now, would it be kinder to just scold me, or to inflict a little pain so that the next time I'm tempted to play with your blades, I remember that lesson and don't do it again?"

She squinted up at him. Kel'nar didn't usually talk this much, and somehow this explanation was different than the usual lecture. "Are your scimitars really that dangerous?" she asked in a small voice.

The ranger realized that his daughter hadn't really seen him putting the weapons to use; at least not often. He nodded. "Look." He pulled Twinkle a few inches out of the scabbard and tapped his index finger lightly on the edge of the blade. He held the finger out to her, blood welling up from a fresh cut across it. A few crimson drops fell to the ground as Violet stared, open-mouthed.

"You barely touched it!"

"I know." Drizzt pressed his thumb against the gash and slid Twinkle back into its sheath.

"I always thought you were exaggerating how sharp they are."

"I'm not." He looked her right in the eye, gaze intent. "Do you understand why you are to leave my scimitars alone?"

"Yes." Her eyes were still wide, and her voice squeaked on the word.

"Good." He waited a few moments to let her new realization sink in.

" _Now_ ," he continued the role-reversal, "I've been foolishly and willfully disobedient, and you need me to remember not to play with your scimitars again. You don't like having to punish me, but you need this lesson to be memorable. You don't want to end up with a maimed child." Drizzt held out his bare arm.

Violet swallowed. "Um...how many...?"

He met her eyes. "I was going to give you three. I'll take them for you."

"I...um...okay." Violet shut her eyes and swung. She missed, but Drizzt grabbed the switch before she hit herself in the leg with it.

"No good. Eyes open. You have to aim."

Violet opened her eyes and giggled nervously. This felt so bizarre.

Drizzt watched her face and hoped it would be a memorable lesson. "Three," he reminded. "Hard, so I don't do it again."

Violet giggled again and shifted her weight, hesitating once more.

"Come on, don't make me wait, I want to get it over with."

She laughed at the uncharacteristic words, and he smiled too. Then she cracked the switch down hard, and it was a strange exercise in discipline not to evade the blow. She followed up with a second strike that felt rather like the sting of a wasp. Drizzt reminded himself which branch she was using _and_ that his children always had the benefit of their doeskin breeches. She delivered her final blow, and Drizzt did not flinch, but he had to admit that she had a good arm, child though she was.

Violet looked up at him expectantly, panting.

"Oh – _ow_..." he said belatedly. He rubbed his arm, not entirely for her benefit.

She grinned.

Drizzt held his arm out to her again. "See the difference?"

Violet's eyes widened. There were three raised welts just below his elbow, long and thin. Two of the reddish-white lines crisscrossed. "I'm sorry!" she exclaimed.

He waved a hand dismissively and smiled. "I'm fine." He pulled his sleeve back down. "Do you understand now why mum made you bring a bigger switch?"

 _Mum_. Violet let the branch fall from her fingers and hung her head, remembering. "I said mean things to mum."

Drizzt nodded. He put his hand on her shoulder. "It will be alright."

She looked up at him, sapphire eyes sparkling with moisture again. "But I said I wished she hadn't come back...and, and...I said she was really mean." Violet bit her lip.

Drizzt sighed. That explained why his wife had seemed more upset than expected. "And that hurt mum."

Violet covered her mouth with her hand, and a tear trickled down one cheek.

Drizzt rubbed her back. "You know Vi, mum was a child once too. I'm sure she understands." He looked at her scrunched-up face. "Certainly you need to apologize to her, but I know she'll forgive you."

Violet nodded, then turned and walked away from him suddenly, wending her way through the trees and ducking mossy branches.

He watched her go, her brown tunic and doeskin breeches eventually blending in with the surrounding forest until he just knew where she was by the bright white hair that was the same as his own. Eventually she stopped and sat down, and he didn't know if he should leave her be or follow. He'd watch over her at least; the woods were not always a safe place and his daughter certainly wasn't being watchful. This would not be the time to remind her of that. Violet was a mystery in some ways. There were times when he felt he could read her face like an open book, but this wasn't one of those times.

Drizzt waited a little while and then went to her, sitting down beside her without saying anything.

"Leave me alone." Violet shut her eyes tight.

"Is that what you really want?" Drizzt didn't look at her, but his tone was gentle.

After a moment she shook her head. "I just don't want you to see me cry again." Her voice cracked on the words.

"Go ahead and cry. I don't mind." He put his arm around her and drew her close.

Violet leaned against him for awhile, but she didn't cry again, just wiped away the few tears that had already escaped. Eventually she looked up. "Kel'nar?"

"Yes?"

"Um...never mind."

He lifted her chin with one slender finger. "I don't mind."

* * *

Violet met his gaze but didn't say anything further. If she ever said "never mind," Kel'nar's response was always "I don't mind." It was almost like some code between them – the play on words nearly always got her to finish what she had begun to say. Violet played the conversation out in her head. The problem was, this time she didn't know what Kel'nar _would_ say. Perhaps she wouldn't let herself be so easily convinced.

* * *

Drizzt dropped his hand and let her look away. Evidently eye contact wasn't helping. He watched a gull glide effortless past above the treetops. "Do you want to tell me what else is bothering you?"

Violet picked at a loose piece of bark on the rough log. "It's not important."

"I think it is." He hoped his soft tone was as convincing as his words. Violet hadn't cried this much in a very long time, and he suspected it had to do with more than just her almost-punishment and the quarrel with Cattie-brie.

Violet shuffled her feet in the dirt, making a furrow with the toe of one soft boot. She spoke in a sudden rush of words. "Zak has practice scimitars and I don't. You practice with him everyday, but you don't let me try. You make me go away to play." Her voice broke. "You don't even let me watch!" She wouldn't look at him.

"Ah..." That explained things. Drizzt ran a gentle hand through her tangled white hair. Zaknafein certainly did better without his younger sister there scrutinizing his every move. "And you're feeling left out, _d'anthe uss_?"

She nodded miserably, as though expecting to be scolded for this admission.

"I'm sorry," Drizzt said quietly.

Violet looked up. "You...you are?"

He nodded, his expression solemn. Sometimes the ranger forgot that his young daughter was growing up too.

Violet looked suddenly hopeful. "Does that mean I can get practice scimitars too?" She held her breath.

Drizzt studied her face for a long moment. If he knew his daughter, she wouldn't forgot today's scimitar incident, nor would she repeat it. She was so eager to learn weapon skills, and what better time to start teaching her? At last he nodded. "Grandpa Bruenor could find some the right size for you, I'm sure."

Violet beamed. " _Yes!_ Thank you Kel'nar!"

Drizzt smiled too, but only for a moment. "Zaknafein got his practice scimitars when he turned eight," he said. "You're already eight and a half. I'm sorry I've been neglecting you."

Impulsively, Violet hugged her father. "I forgive you! Can we get the scimitars today?"

Drizzt laughed. "Tomorrow," he promised, with a glance at the lengthening shadows. "Now let's go see if mum needs any help with supper." He looked at her sidelong. "Have you thought of what you might say to her?"

She blushed, but nodded.

"Good."

When they were almost to the treeline she slipped her small hand into his strong one, and Violet didn't know it, but her father closed his eyes for a moment and smiled.

* * *

 _D'anthe uss = "_ Dear one." (A term of endearment).  
 _Trilar_ = mosquito. (Literally a "biter" in Drow).

 _A/N: In progress. I'm still editing the rest of the draft. All reviews appreciated. :)_


	5. Mushrooms & Berries

**Chapter 5: Mushrooms and Berries**

" _There are many edible items in the woods. Not all of them taste good."_

* * *

Violet picked at the filling of one mushroom. The mushy bread crumbs stuck to the roof of her mouth like paste. The whole cloves of garlic were big enough to choke a tundra yeti. The sour goat cheese made her tongue curl up like a dry leaf. But worst of all were the swollen, blob-like mushrooms. She hated mushrooms. Hated the rubbery, spongy feel of them in her mouth. Hated the nauseating flavor. Hated how they slipped and slid on her tongue and the salty, wet feeling as her teeth sheared through them. She was sickened by the way they crawled down her throat, slow and sticky, like tree slugs. As soon as she thought of the comparison she gagged.

Zaknafein shot his sister a pitying look. He loved stuffed mushrooms, but there were foods he couldn't stand either. He understood. Mum and Kel'nar were staring at each other, and he decided to help her out.

* * *

 _Drizzt hasn't said a word this whole meal_ , Cattie-brie realized. Sure, he had smiled a time or two, passed the water pitcher and the salt cellar, even shook his head a few times, but he hadn't actually spoken. That was rather odd, even for her normally taciturn husband. Zaknafein and Violet were the ones who carried the conversation. Violet was positively giddy over the prospect of practice scimitars, and Zak hesitantly recounted his experience with the jewel snake, only, Cattie-brie thought, to stop Vi from asking him so many questions about it. Drizzt, however, remained unusually silent. He sent an appraising glance her way over the rim of his cup, and she did not miss it. This was followed by more thoughtful, yes, even _calculating_ looks from the side of his eyes as he meticulously cut his stuffed mushrooms into increasingly minuscule bites. Had it been one of the children, Cattie-brie would have told him to stop playing with his food.

She glanced at Violet's plate and was surprised to note that her two stuffed mushrooms were already gone – and that without a word of protest.

Drizzt fixed her with a look again, this time full-on, and she met his eyes. " _What_?" she mouthed over Violet's chatter. He only shook his head in the slightest and went back to his now-slivered mushrooms. He glanced down at them and frowned slightly, as though surprised by their unusual appearance. Well, she'd wait if she had to, but something was clearly bothering him. Something that apparently involved her. She'd get it out of him one way or another, Cattie-brie was sure of that.

* * *

"More mushrooms, Zak? You usually eat more than two."

Zak's eyes widened, momentarily panicked. Truth be told, he had had five, but two of those had been Violet's. Right now he couldn't imagine eating another mushroom, or anything else for that matter. "Uh, no thanks mum. I guess I'm not that hungry."

Violet made a strangled noise in her cup, coughing and spluttering on the gulp of water she'd just taken. She knew very well why Zak wasn't hungry. Mum pounded her on the back, and Zak had to bite the inside of his cheek so that he could keep a straight face.

Vi pulled her handkerchief out and covered most of her face with it, but Zak knew her watering eyes and gasping were still stifled laughs. He kicked her under the table. " _Get it together_!" he signed in the silent code, dropping his hand between their chairs. She didn't notice. Kel'nar glanced at him. _Shu._ Had he seen?

"You alright, Vi?" Kel'nar said it to her, but his gaze was now fixed on Zaknafein.

 _Shu, shu, shuu!_ He must have seen it. Or had he seen Zak quickly take the mushrooms from Violet's plate?

"Fine, Kel'nar."

Maybe their father hadn't been as oblivious as he'd looked. Zaknafein tried to look innocent, returning that intent gaze. _Don't look away, don't look away..._

"Anyone have room for thornberry tarts?" Mum asked, oblivious to the exchange. She got up to retrieve the still-warm pastries from the hearth.

"I do!" Violet practically shouted.

Zak was relieved when Kel'nar looked over at mum and smiled. "Sounds delicious. I'm sure we all have room for those...right Zak?" His father looked back at him suddenly, one eyebrow raised, and Zak hid his alarmed expression, perhaps a moment too late.

"Actually, father, may I be excused?"

An amused smile tugged at the corner of Kel'nar's mouth, catching Zak a bit by surprise. "Certainly." His eyes twinkled.

So Kel'nar knew, but he didn't mind? Zak wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He stood up to leave the table, but mum was looking at him worriedly, forehead creased with wrinkles and blue eyes narrowed. Abruptly she set down the pan of tarts and reached for the large bottle of stomach elixir on the top shelf above the dishes. "Wait Zak."

"I'm fine, mum!" Zak said hastily.

Mum shook the bottle, causing the suspended fish oil globules in the watery _kyor-yinn_ juice to careen off of more gelatinous lumps of crushed _kyor-yinn_ , the saw-toothed plant that grew in Zakhara, and also in a pot on the windowsill.

Zak's stomach flip-flopped as he eyes the swirling contents that mum intended to make him drink.

"I think you'd better have a spoonful of this and–"

"I'm _fine_!"

Mum produced a large spoon, ignoring this comment.

Desperately, Zak looked to his father and sister for help. Violet had a wide-eyed look of transfixed horror. No help there then.

"Cat...he's probably just a bit preoccupied with today's jewel snake," Drizzt said quietly.

"Oh." Mum had already poured a spoonful of stomach elixir, including a sizable blob of _kyor-yinn_. She fixed him with a look, spoon hovering. "Is that it, Zaknafein?"

Zak looked down so that his face would betray nothing. All eyes were on him. Incredulity with his father's near-lie mingled with relief at avoiding the horrible elixir. "I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled, too well-trained to fib, but certainly unwilling to reveal any more to his no-nonsense mother. You ate what mum made or you went hungry. Stubborn Violet might act like she didn't care, but the last time she had gone to bed without supper, he had heard her crying in the night. Zaknafein couldn't handle that. He wouldn't let it happen again.

"Okay." Mum turned to put the bottle away and Zak beat a hasty retreat, signing a quick "thank you" to Kel'nar in the silent code, even as his little sister twisted in her chair, her back to their father, and signed the same to Zaknafein, hand over her heart.

* * *

 _Shu_ = sh** (a mild expletive)

A/N: More to come. Let me know what you think!


	6. Dwarven Methods

**Chapter 6: Dwarven Methods**

 _"Keep your feet on the ground."_

* * *

Cattie-brie heard Drizzt's quiet footsteps on the stairs as he came down from saying goodnight to the children. She hastily darted into the study, scrambled onto the back of the overstuffed sofa, and pulled herself up onto a crossbeam. She inched out into the middle of the room and hung from her knees so that she could greet him upside-down when he entered.

Only a moment later, Drizzt was in the doorway. He stopped, momentarily startled, then a smile spread across his face as he took in his wife's lithe form, curly red hair gently swaying in two feet of auburn waves beneath her head. "Sore back?" he inquired, and surprised her by easily swinging up to join her. "Aahh. Seems like a good way to stretch."

Cattie-brie snorted, but gave him a wry grin. "Ye've been givin' me strange looks ever since ye came inside. I figured I'd give ye something ta look at." She unhooked her legs from the beam and flipped down.

The smile left Drizzt's face. The return of the accent from Cattie's dwarven upbringing always signified stress. He hadn't meant to worry her. At least not yet.

"Well? D'ya have anything to say?" she demanded.

Drizzt regarded her from his upside-down vantage point, her lips pressed together, her arms crossed defensively. "Well, now that you mention it..." he began, half teasing.

"Now that I mention it?!" Cattie-brie narrowed her eyes. Her hands darted out without warning, taking advantage of his vulnerable position to viciously tickle his unprotected ribs.

"Hey!" Drizzt gasped, twisting away and nearly falling from the beam. He grabbed for her wrists but she darted back just in time. "Not fair!"

"Not fair?" she laughed. "Very rarely do I have you at a disadvantage."

"Oh?" Drizzt raised an eyebrow, still hanging from the beam. "You'd be surprised."

Cattie-brie knew why he didn't flip down – surely he was baiting her now. His eyes twinkled, but his muscles were tense and ready. She went in anyway and gave a little shriek when he grabbed her wrists, though it had been expected.

She pulled her arms down swift and hard, but she couldn't dislodge him. That hadn't gone according to plan. Cattie frowned. "Happy?"

He laughed. "Good try."

Cattie-brie grinned and began backing up, thinking to undermine his leverage, but Drizzt let go of her wrists and flipped the moment she was clear. His feet missed her head by a mere inch, but, she knew, that was his intention. "Show off."

He grinned and scooped her up suddenly, kissing her cheek before depositing her lightly on the couch. "Only for you."

She looked up at him coyly. "And the children?"

He laughed, lavender eyes sparkling. "Of course. Always for the children."

Cattie-brie smiled too. She patted the sofa beside her and he sat. "Well. You have something to say to me." It wasn't a question.

Drizzt nodded, studying the reflection of the softly flickering flames from the hearth in the study window. How to begin?

"Then say it already."

"Alright." He met her eyes. "Were you planning to tell me about the snakes?"

"What?" Cattie-brie's brow knit. "You know about the snakes."

"I do _now_."

She sat up a bit more, not sure what to make of his almost-stern tone. "Now?"

"Do you have _any idea_ what you put Zaknafein through today?" His gaze was intent.

"What _I_ put him through? Drizzt, you _know_ Zak is scared of snakes. He has been for a long time. What d'ya mean by—" Understanding dawned, and Cattie-brie could hardly believe the accusation. Disbelief mingled with outrage. "Drizzt Do'Urden! If you think I'd deliberately send snakes into the house for our son to encounter, then you don't know me half as well as you should!"

He sat back, looking a bit like she'd struck him.

Cattie-brie sighed. "I'm sorry, I—"

"No," he cut her off. "You're right...you wouldn't. It is I who should apologize." Drizzt shook his head ruefully. "Jewel snakes don't behave that way. They avoid areas frequented by people, as far as I've observed. I just don't understand that so many have been coming in on their own, and it hardly seems a coincidence that it's always Zaknafein who encounters them."

Cattie-brie's eyes widened. "Violet?" she wondered.

Drizzt shook his head. "Not today anyway."

"She wouldn't think it was funny? She wasn't out of sight at any time?"

Drizzt tipped his head to the side, remembering the stuffed mushrooms and the deep bond between his children. "Certainly they fight and tease, but she's not cruel. She knows his fear."

"Maybe she thinks she's helping him?"

Drizzt frowned. "Possibly. But she was with me from midday until—" he stopped suddenly. "Helping," Cattie had said. The snakes had always been harmless. They were always directed to Zaknafein. "Cat...when you were afraid of something as a child, what would Bruenor do?"

"My da?" She wrinkled her nose distastefully, recalling her adoptive father's dwarven methods. "He would make me do exactly the thing I was afraid of." Cattie's eyes widened suddenly. "Drizzt, d'ya think he knows Zaknafein is afraid of snakes?"

The ranger met her eyes. "Undoubtedly. If Zak hasn't told him, Violet surely has."

Cattie-brie nodded slowly. Violet would talk the crusty old dwarf's ear off if she had the chance, and Bruenor was more than happy to let his dear granddaughter do so. She narrowed her eyes. "I'll not thank him fer interfering with our boy, I'll tell ye that!"

"Cat." Drizzt took her hand. "We don't know for sure."

She snorted. "One way to find out."

He studied her face, her expression all protective mother – colored with more than a little anger. "I don't appreciate it either," he stated, "but I do have to admit that it seems to have worked."

Cattie-brie sighed, not so willing to let go of her frustration. "Aye, it worked, but that's hardly the point!"

Drizzt inclined his head. "We go to the mines tomorrow. We'll have it out then."

"Suren' we will!"

"Cattie." Drizzt sighed. "His heart's in the right place."

"Even if his head's not?"

He smiled ruefully and nodded. "Just try to remember the heart when we adjust the head."

* * *

A/N: More to come as I edit the draft. (And yes, this chapter jumps between their thoughts too much...I do know better now, but didn't want to do a whole rewrite)! ;) Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks so much to those who have left comments thus far!


	7. To The Point

**Chapter 7: To The Point**

* * *

The dwarven mines under Kelvin's Cairn were perpetually warm. Even the cool damp of the underground was no match for the great forges with their ever-burning fires. Cattie-brie breathed in the myriad of smells as Drizzt swung another heavy wooden door shut behind them. First there was the earthy smell of the rocky tunnels, hinting of roots and the cool smell of fallen leaves. Next, the mildly lingering scent of smoke. The great furnaces with their carved rock chimneys meant the smoke was quickly carried upward, but a hint of it remained. Last, there was the unique smell of hot metal. Even at the uppermost level of the mine Cattie could detect a hint of it, at once sharp and familiar. The young woman took a deep breath. To her, the smell of the mines was the smell of home. Not that she wouldn't be happy to get back out into the fresh air later, she thought ruefully, but there were many wonderful memories of growing up in these mines.

"Me girl!" a gruff voice called.

Cattie-brie smiled despite herself. There was one of the happy memories now, although she wasn't too pleased with him at the moment.

"Grandpa!" Violet ran to the crusty old dwarf and he grabbed her in a bear hug, which she eagerly returned. "Dad and mum say I get to get practice scimitars today!"

Bruenor's face lit up in a crooked grin. "Do they now? About time, me thinks!" He turned his gaze to Zaknafein. " And how's my favorite laddie?" Bruenor clapped him on the back. "About ready to get _real_ weapons now, eh?"

"Can I?" Zak asked eagerly.

Bruenor's grinned widened. "Why, if it was up ta me, laddie, you'd have them already!" he gave a great guffaw and clapped Zak on the shoulder again.

Cattie-brie cleared her throat and Bruenor glanced over at his adopted daughter. "Of course, that be something that yer da and mum will hafta decide." He winked at Drizzt. "Or maybe it's just yer mum that needs convincin'."

Drizzt narrowed his eyes at his old friend. "We will discuss that later." He offered Cattie-brie a rueful smile and took her hand. Perhaps the old dwarf was just stating the facts, but it was a sensitive topic lately, and he wouldn't let Bruenor's remark drive a wedge between them.

"Fine, fine. Well, they be forgin' swords and daggers today," he stated, then glanced pointedly at Drizzt's hips where the drow's own weapons were belted. "Maybe even a few scimitars. Seems like some o' the lads took it into their heads to try out a new weapon type. Can't fer the life of me imagine why they'd want to!" He laughed again. "Shorter than yours, of course. A dwarf would get tangled up in them long blades."

Drizzt chuckled. "Perhaps so, but let the weapon chose them, if not the other way around."

Bruenor grinned broadly and nodded at his old friend. "Like me old axe!"

From somewhere below in the mines came the ring of metal on metal as the craftsmen smithed the blades. Zaknafein started toward the passage to the lower level, enthralled. Violet was only a few steps behind. "Mum! We're going to watch!"

Cattie-brie nodded. "You stay well out of the way, ya hear?"

"Aw mum! We always do!"

"Watch out for stray sparks!"

Drizzt smiled. Some things never changed.

"Well don't just stand there with both legs the same length, come in!" Bruenor invited, and Drizzt and Cattie followed him to a group of rough oak chairs by the fireplace.

Drizzt pulled out Twinkle and wordlessly handed the scimitar to his old friend.

The dwarf took the blade and squinted down the length of it, turning it this way and that. "Elf!" he growled, "what have ye been doin' to dint up such a fine weapon? And ye'd better tell me it was choppin' up yetis or the like!" He shook his head, taking in the myriad of scratches and even a tiny chip at the tip of the curved blade. "More stabbin' than slicin' lately?"

Drizzt smirked. "Sadly, no. Though I dare say it's in much better condition than your many-notched axe!"

"Bah!" Bruenor waved a hand dismissively. "That ol' axe has character. It's meant to take a beating! But what in Toril have ye been doing to this poor blade?"

Drizzt shared a look with Cattie-brie. "Let's just say Violet didn't realize that dragging it across the ground meant it would scrape over stones and pebbles."

Bruenor's eyes widened. "Ye mean to tell me that you let my little granddaughter play with yer drow-sharp weapon?" He narrowed his eyes.

"No," Drizzt hastily interjected. "But that doesn't mean she always obeys."

The dwarf raised his eyebrows, handing back the scimitar. "I'd take it outta her hide if she were mine! Girl coulda cut her leg off."

Drizzt nodded seriously. "She knows better now."

"Glad I am to hear it. Don't want no granddaughter of mine to slice herself up when she ain't even trained. Now, you take that scimitar down to me boys and they'll have it good as new fer you in no time." He was about to add "Tell em' I sent you," but realized just how unnecessary that was. Drizzt was nothing less than a hero here among Clan Battlehammer.

Cattie-brie watched her hero depart, then fixed Bruenor with a look. At last they were alone. She would confront him about the jewel snakes, and she would speak her mind.

* * *

"...He's not a dwarf!"

"Neither are ye, and ye turned out alright."

Cattie-brie snorted. "That's not the point!"

"I be thinking that _is_ the point."

"Zak's not like me."

"Too bad, that."

Cattie-brie wanted to hit him. She almost did, but Drizzt took that moment to return. She saw the look he gave her from the corner of her eye and remembered their previous conversation. Cattie took a deep breath and held it for a few heartbeats before exhaling slowly. "I'd not have him different than he is." This time her voice was calm. "His sensitivity adds to his wisdom."

Bruenor gave a curt nod, accepting her assessment. "Maybe so, but he still needs to be prepared for reality."

Drizzt nodded. "He will be. But we'll do it our way."

Bruenor frowned. "I jist care about the lad."

"Of course you do, and rightly so. But we're asking you to trust our judgment."

Bruenor glared at his drow friend. "Fine, elf," he sputtered, but his words were accompanied by a reluctant smile. "Then let's go see to some practice weapons for me favorite granddaughter."

The gruff dwarf shambled off toward the lower passage, Drizzt and Cattie-brie following. Drizzt raised his eyebrows questioningly and a smile tugged at Cattie-brie's lips. She took his hand and leaned in close. "Better than expected!" she mouthed. Drizzt squeezed her hand and they descended into the heat of the forge.

Before they reached the great work room, Bruenor stopped and turned to face them. "Some o' the young lads and lassies will be gettin' their first real weapons in a ceremony next week. I be wantin' to present some to me grandkids as well...with yer permission."

Well there was a dwarf for you, Drizzt thought. Direct and to the point. He looked at Cattie-brie, expecting to see reluctance in her expression, but she surprised him.

"Oh da! That's a lovely idea!"

The dwarf seemed as surprised as Drizzt, his bushy eyebrows nearly climbing to his hairline.

"Just like when I got my first sword when I was eleven!" Cattie-brie smiled at the memory, then frowned. "But I don't know about Violet. She's not trained yet. She's too young."

There it was, Drizzt thought. He felt even worse for focusing weapon training exclusively on Zaknafein.

"But she'll be training soon...and the real weapons can always be put away until later," Cattie-brie decided. "Zaknafein's too, for that matter."

Drizzt smiled. "Violet's, yes. Zaknafein's, not for long."

Cattie-brie fixed him with a worried look, but this time Bruenor interjected. "He's right, me girl. Zaknafein has a good teacher."

Drizzt tried to bite back his grin at the unexpected praise. He knew what Bruenor thought of him, but he very rarely, if ever, expected the gruff old dwarf to put it into words.

* * *

"I want swords, not scimitars," Zaknafein stated flatly, crossing his arms.

"Well _I_ want scimitars," Violet chimed in, bouncing on her toes.

Drizzt regarded his children. He liked the idea of the weapon choosing the wielder – a weapon that felt most natural in the hand, but he was unsure if that was the case here. "Zak," he said carefully. "Choose what you want, not what you think someone else wants."

Zaknafein met his eyes and held them. "It _is_ what I want."

"Because of your namesake?" Drizzt had told enough stories of his own father, weapons master of House Do'Urden, for his son to be more than thrilled that he shared a name with the long-dead legend.

Zaknafein didn't deny it. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Drizzt studied his face for a moment. "Not if you are truly interested in swords as well. But if it's your only reason..."

"It's not. I want something different than you, but I want long blades."

Drizzt considered being hurt by his son's comment, but really he understood. A smiled tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Swords it is."

"And scimitars for me! I want scimitars like you, Kel'nar!" Violet looked up at him eagerly, bouncing on her toes.

Drizzt smiled down at her, tousling her messy hair. "I know, Vi, I know."

* * *

A/N: _More to come! Thanks so much to those who have commented._


	8. What's In A Name

**Chapter 8: What's In A Name**

 _That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet._

* * *

Violet might not have found her brother, if hadn't been for her inherited Darkvision. Zak was perched high on a natural ledge in a dusty old forge chamber, about as far away from the Great Hall as one could get without descending into the mines themselves. He huddled against the rough stone wall with his messy auburn hair dangling over his face and his arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees. The fingers of one hand drummed a jerky rhythm against his shin.

"Found you!" Violet called out, and Zak jerked his head up in surprise, nearly losing his balance on the narrow ledge. His sister giggled. "Good thing it's not far to the floor."

Zak scowled. "Very funny."

"I thought so." Violet peered up at him. "How did you get up there anyway?"

"I climbed."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"You asked."

"You know what I meant!" His younger sister looked around for a handhold. "What are you doing in here anyway?"

Zak sighed. "What does it look like I'm doing? Not going to the ceremony, that's what."

Violet wrinkled her forehead. "Why? We've been counting down the days all week! I thought you were excited."

Zak exhaled loudly and pursed his lips. "I didn't know we'd have to _name_ our weapons today. I can't think of anything good." Violet was still looking for a way up, and he leaned down, pointing out a crack in the rock off to her right. "Follow that."

Violet wriggled her boot toe into the crack and climbed quickly, soon pulling herself up beside him. "It's not that big of a deal you know. Besides, there's like twenty dwarven children getting weapons right now. You still have time."

Zak looked at her sidelong. "Not enough time." He frowned. "Grandpa Bruenor should've thought to mention it before today." The frown deepened and he curled his fingers into a fist, nails digging into his palm. "I supposed you already have names picked out?"

"Of course." She grinned.

Zak pushed her shoulder, making Violet grab the ledge with one hand. "No need to be so smug. What are they?"

"Division and Subtraction," his sister said coyly. "Maybe in Drow."

He raised his eyebrows and couldn't help grinning. "That _is_ pretty clever!"

"I thought so."

The grin faded. "But where does that leave me?" He sighed and combed his fingers through his tangled red hair, pulling hard. "Something significant," he said, "and quickly."

Violet wrinkled her nose, then smirked. "Whatever you choose, I'm sure it'll be more significant than 'Stabber' and 'Slicer,' or even 'Beater.'" She raised an eyebrow.

Zak smirked too. 'Beater' was the name of grandpa Bruenor's favorite old axe. "Yeah, but what if I don't like the names later and then I'm stuck with them?" He frowned again.

Violet shrugged. "You won't be stuck with them forever. Pick better ones next time."

His brow knit. "Next time?"

"Well it might be what – five years – before you get full-sized ones?"

"Oh yeah!" His eyes lit up. Somehow in all the excitement of getting his first _real_ weapons, not just practice weapons, Zaknafein had forgotten that they would be sized for him and later outgrown. He blew out a long breath. Maybe the weapons names didn't matter so much then.

Violet laughed and pushed him playfully. "You mean you thought you had to pick names that you'd use _forever_?"

Zak felt his cheeks grow warm. He nodded sheepishly.

She grinned. "Thought you were making a big deal about it."

He smiled too, but only for a moment. "Well I still have to hurry. Maybe Striker and Venom, or Might and Right, or Pain and Gain –"

Violet snorted. "They don't have to rhyme! I like the first ones – especially because grandpa Bruenor said yours were going to have snakes for the hilts!"

"Snakes?" Zak made a face. "Just in case I didn't get the point?" He rolled his eyes.

"He said they'd be a good reminder."

Zaknafein frowned. "He told _you_ that?"

Violet lifted her chin. "No. I was listening in from the passageway."

"Why am I not surprised?" He elbowed her in the ribs. "And stop looking so smug. You're scared of things too."

" _Ow_ – Am not!"

"Are so."

"Oh yeah? Like what? Name something I'm scared of," she challenged.

Zaknafein grinned wickedly. "Worms. Creepy crawly worms, wriggling in your hair."

Violet flinched involuntarily. "Am not," she protested. "They're just gross."

"Yeah right. You shrieked like a baby banshee the last time a caterpillar was on you. 'Get if off! Get it off! Get it offffff!'" he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Mum had to quickly rescue the poor thing before you started crying."

Violet crossed her arms and glared at her brother. "That was like two summers ago! And I wouldn't have cried!"

"Would so."

"Would not!"

Zak smirked. "We'll see next time."

"Zaknafein, don't you dare put a caterpillar in my hair, or I'll tell Kel'nar," she threatened.

"So?" Zak raised his eyebrows and the wicked grin returned. "Maybe I should tell _grandpa Bruenor_ that you're scared of them."

Violet's eyes widened. "No! And I am _not_! I just can't stand them in my hair!"

"He could help you get over that."

"Zaknafein Do'Urden, don't you _dare_!"

"Fine then," he relented. "But really they're no big deal. And without caterpillars there wouldn't be any butterflies. _Hey_ –" he looked at her sidelong "–bet you grandpa Bruenor makes your scimitars with butterfly hilts to match the hair pin he made you for your birthday."

Violet's face fell. "Probably. I didn't hear what mine were going to be. Someone was coming and I had to hurry away from the forges."

Zak rolled his eyes. "Why can't you stand to let something be a surprise for once?"

She shrugged. "I just like to know what's going to happen."

"Well I bet he'll give you butterflies." Zaknafein grinned and pushed his sister playfully. "And _you_ can remember that butterflies come from creepy crawly caterpillars!"

Violet pushed him back harder. "It's just a _hair_ thing!" She ran a hand through her stark white hair as if checking for any entangled passengers, then sighed, swinging her feet and looking down at the floor. "Butterflies. _Shu_ – you're probably right. Next time I'll have to tell him I want something better." She looked up and her cobalt eyes gleamed. "Like what a warrior would have."

"Alright _Butterfly Warrior_ – we'd better go before we miss the whole thing or Kel'nar comes looking." He dodged her expected punch and sprang down in one easy move, then dodged again before she could jump on him.

But Violet was right behind and she was quick. A sweep kick took him off of his feet.

" _Oof_!" Zak pitched forward and rolled. His little sister tackled him and gave him a knee to the ribs before he rolled over and pinned her down.

"Never call me 'Butterfly Warrior!'" she grunted.

Zak grinned. "We'll see."

Violet squirmed. "Let me up!"

He looked down at her, his face mere inches from hers. "Only if you admit you lost this one."

"Didn't!"

Zak snorted. "You're pinned."

" _You_ got the knee to the ribs! _I_ didn't take a hit!"

Zak smirked. "I could do something about that."

Her eyes widened. "While I'm down? You'd better not! You know what Kel'nar says about honor."

Zak looked skyward. "Of course I wouldn't, silly. Just admit you lost."

" _Shu_. Fine! You won this one."

A sudden flare of purple faerie fire startled them both and Zak sprang up in a ready stance, putting himself between his little sister and the door without thinking. The harmless flames raced over them with bright purple light but no heat.

"Kel'naaar," Violet complained, getting to her feet, "Don't do that."

Their father was in the doorway, one hand outstretched. "Just getting your attention. The ceremony's going quickly. It's almost your turn."

Zaknafein relaxed his stance and sighed. "Should have known," he muttered. He stalked to the doorway and would have kept on going, but Drizzt put a hand on his arm.

"You alright?" he asked close to Zaknafein's ear.

Zak nodded.

"Good." Drizzt smiled. "Impressive reaction time."

Zaknafein didn't say anything, but he couldn't hide his grin. He strode down the hall with his shoulders squared and his head held high.

Violet skipped to the doorway. "Can you do the purple fire again?" The faerie flames had already faded away.

Drizzt laughed. "No. And a word of advice: Don't say _shu_ or you'll also learn the drow word for having a bad taste in your mouth – meaning soap berries, _kampi'un_?"

Violet's eyes widened. Of course she understood. " _Kampi'unus,_ Kel'nar." Her spirits, however, weren't dampened for long. "Now let's go get my scimitars!"

* * *

 _Kampi'un_ = "Understand?"  
 _Kampi'unus_ = "Understood."

A/N: More to come!


	9. Taking The Blade

**Chapter 9: Taking The Blade**

" _A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage."_

* * *

Zaknafein stood outside of the Great Hall waiting for Violet and Kel'nar to catch up. He didn't have to wait long.

"Come on!" his little sister urged breathlessly, pushing past him.

Kel'nar wasn't far behind. " _Quietly!_ " his hands signaled as Violet tugged open one of the heavy wooden doors.

They slipped inside. The natural stone cavern had been widened and expanded into a Great Hall that could easily seat two hundred dwarves. Torches lined the walls in wrought iron brackets, and tables and benches crowded the hall today, each table holding a keg of dwarven ale and countless flagons emblazoned with the foaming mug crest of clan Battlehammer. Fat white candles at each table provided additional illumination to the smokey haze of the torches, and pitchers of spiced cider crowded several table tops as well – a nod to the fact that there were children present. It seemed the _entire clan_ was present. Every table was crowded full.

Two narrow aisles were left clear at the sides of the chamber, and one down the middle. The far end of the cavern was dominated by a raised stone dais upon which two long tables stood, each made of sturdy wood. The tables had formerly been laden with the mysterious lumpy shapes of numerous weapons hidden beneath undyed linen sheets. One table was already empty, its cover sheet missing, and the second nearly so.

Only a few dwarven children remained in what had been a long line at the left-hand side of the hall leading up to the stage, and Violet hurried to join them. Zaknafein followed her more slowly. He turned and looked around to see Kel'nar slipping past rows of tables to join mum right at the front and center table nearest the platform. Zak barely nodded in response to his mother's relieved expression.

Grandpa Bruenor had wanted Zaknafein and Violet to be the last to receive their newly-forged weapons. "They're me grandchildren after all!" he had gruffed. It was a good thing they were last – only two more young dwarves were in line in front of them. Violet was bouncing on her toes, but Zak felt his gut tighten. He wiped his moist palms on his roughspun trousers and shuffled forward a few steps while Durfin Stonearm received his new hammer and pronounced its name "Whacker" to the hoots and hollers of the clan.

The cavern was warm and muggy, the still air filled with the odor of sweating dwarves and fermented drink. Zak's stomach churned and he bit his lip, half turning toward a side passageway that led up to the surface. He needed air. Weapon names chosen or not, being in front of the entire Battlehammer clan was just about the last place on Toril he wanted to be. The final young dwarf, another Stonearm relation by the name of Kerdil, was hefting a new axe. Soon all eyes would be upon Violet – and then him. Sweat sprang out at his temples, and Zak's stomach heaved. He was going to be sick. He stifled a moan and forced the feeling back with three deep breaths. He _couldn't_ do this. He _wouldn't_. No one would notice him slip out during the height of the cheering – even if they did, no one could call him back.

Kerdil Stonearm grinned. He swung his new axe and Bruneor jumped back. "Slasher!" the young dwarf hollered. Cheers and howls of laughter erupted in the cavern.

 _Now_. Zak shifted his feet to bolt, but suddenly Violet whirled and gripped his arm tight.

"In Drow or in Common?" she hissed over the cheering. "I can't decide!"

Zak tensed, then blinked at her. He blew out his breath and furrowed his brow. "What?"

"My weapon names – Drow or Common?" Her wide eyes searched his face with unusual desperation.

Zaknafein focused on those eyes, momentarily forgetting his own discomfort. His sister needed him. "Common. Otherwise the meaning will be lost on them."

"Alright." Violet's tensed shoulders relaxed and she released her death grip on his arm. "Thanks Zak."

He nodded as Grandpa Bruenor called her name, then suddenly leaned forward. "Go get 'em, Butterfly Warrior!" he said into her ear.

Violet's jaw dropped and her eyes flashed blue ice, but then a huge grin spread across her face. She turned and marched up the three stone steps leading to the dais.

Zak found himself grinning too. He hoped her scimitar hilts really would be butterflies.

* * *

Cattie-brie squeezed Drizzt's hand as Bruenor pulled back the rough linen cloth that hid the promising shapes of four more long weapons. Drizzt smiled down at her, and Cattie-brie blinked back the tears that suddenly stung her eyes. She leaned in close. "Seems jist yesterday that they were wee babies."

Drizzt nodded, squeezing her hand back tight.

Bruenor lifted two gleaming scimitars from that table and Cattie-brie's eyes caught a flash of sapphire as he handed them to Violet, hilts first.

Violet took the weapons eagerly, lifting and turning them slowly. Torchlight in the cavern glinted off of sparkling butterfly wings inset with sapphires that matched her ice-blue eyes.

"Butterflies?" Cattie-brie stifled a snort. "She won't like that!"

Drizzt chuckled beside her. "But see how her eyes are shining."

"Beautiful butterflies for me beautiful granddaughter!" Bruenor boomed with a grin so wide that it revealed nearly all of his yellowed teeth.

The dwarves cheered and some of the grandmothers crooned.

"What'll ye name 'em, me girl?"

Cattie-brie choked back more tears at the simple but endearing name with which Bruenor claimed both her and now her daughter.

Violet's whole face beamed. She held the scimitars high and proclaimed "Division...and Subtraction!"

Drizzt and Cattie-brie shared a wide-eyed look, then Cattie-brie's warm laughter rang out through the chamber. Drizzt nodded at his clever daughter with a knowing smile and began clapping first. Zak was grinning wildly. A moment later the entire chamber was whooping and laughing, bashing gauntlets on chest plates and fists on tables. The weapon names may not have been as straightforward as was their custom, but even pragmatic dwarves could appreciate the humor.

* * *

Zak grinned at his little sister until the applause and laughter died away, and she bounced off of the far end of the stage to join Kel'nar and Mum.

The chamber went silent again, and grandpa Bruenor turned to look at him. "Zaknafein Do'Urden!"

Zak's mouth suddenly went dry. He mounted the stairs numbly, feet barely registering the feel of the solid stone beneath them as Grandpa Bruenor threw back the cloth covering the final two weapons on the table – gleaming swords with snake hilts. Every eye was upon them as Bruenor handed him the beautifully crafted weapons, and Zaknafein's ears rang. His grandfather's lips were moving, but Zak couldn't make out the words. One sword had deep green emeralds as the snake's eyes, the other snake sighted with rubies the color of blood. His heart pounded in his chest as the expectant silence in the cavern became deafening. _Names_. Grandpa Bruenor must have asked him the names.

"Well, young _warrior_?"

Zaknafein looked up from the snake hilts and narrowed his eyes. Something told him that the old dwarf didn't really mean the term, but this was his grandfather, and if he couldn't make him proud, then he would do his best to prove him wrong. He raised the twin swords, and his eyes gleamed with an uncharacteristic hardness, adamantite in the torchlight. "Striker and Venom!"

Bruenor's eyes widened, and the hall exploded in cheers and hollering, mugs bashing and ale sloping. The young dwarves stomped their feet and bashed their new weapons against shields and walls. A grin spread across his grandfather's weathered face, and he turned to the crowd. "That's me boy! Now we feast!"

Zak wore a half-smile as he jumped down from the stage, new weapons in hand.

Mum was wiping tears from her eyes.

Violet had gone from bouncing up and down to full-out jumping. Good thing her new scimitars were lying across the table.

Kel'nar was still clapping, but his gaze seemed distant – even unfocused – and his eyes were narrowed in thought. He blinked at Zaknafein's approach and smiled, then clapped a warm hand against his back. "Well done."

* * *

A/N: Well, Violet finally got her scimitars, and Zaknafein survived being in front of everyone. ;) Thanks for reading, I hope you've enjoyed it thus far! Next chapter: A short epilogue.


	10. Epilogue: Being His Child

Epilogue: Being His Child  


* * *

 _Three months later. . .  
_

* * *

"Guard yourself!"

Too late he realized the opening, and Icingdeath was at his throat. Zak threw down his beautiful new swords suddenly and violently, tears of frustration stinging his eyes. "I'll never be good enough!" he shouted. "Why even try?"

Slowly, deliberately, Drizzt's scimitars were sheathed, his face sober. For long moments he was silent, and Zaknafein counted the beats of his own heart, hopelessness like lead in his stomach. The burden that he always carried had at last been named; without even meaning to he had let the soul-crushing words escape. Like a buried thistle that suddenly sprang forth when the wind swept over the feeble dust attempting to choke it, his greatest fear has been named, and the roots went deep into his heart. Now Kel'nar would try to cut off that vile plant, admonish him that by practicing more he could be better. Zaknafein closed his hands into fists, closed his eyes against tears. The thorns would always be there, and the best he could do would be to harden his heart against them. He had shown weakness, and he resolved to never do so again. Better to feel nothing than to continue feeling this pain.

Kel'nar put a hand on his shoulder then. "My son," he said simply, and Zaknafein looked at him with narrowed eyes. Next would come his father's stories of practicing for hours a day, the necessity of dedication and discipline, all the ways in which Zak needed to try harder.

 _Get it over with then_ , his mind urged bitterly. _I'll never measure up, no matter what you say._

Drizzt shook his head and smiled. "You're already good enough."

"What?" Zak's brow knit as the word tore from him, stunned disbelief in its wake.

Drizzt's grip tightened on his shoulder, firm. "Your _worth_ has nothing to do with those swords, Zaknafein, or with any weapon. Even if you never picked them up again, I would see you the same. You are my son, and that is enough." His gaze was intent. "It will always be enough."

Something broke inside of Zaknafein, something false that had gripped his heart for far too long. The thorny plant was uprooted and he put a hand against his chest. The dusty soil was dry, and, as if his soul knew that the new seeds would need water to grow, he couldn't hold back the flood of pent-up tears any longer.

Kel'nar opened his arms and held him until the storm passed.

* * *

 _Kel'nar_ = dad


End file.
